


A Ghost of a Chance

by suitesamba



Series: Severus in Control [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dirty Talk, Light BDSM, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-12
Updated: 2011-12-12
Packaged: 2017-10-27 06:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suitesamba/pseuds/suitesamba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With their fantasies behind them, Severus and Harry run into each other at the Hog's Head and once again, Severus exerts control. This story follows "Severus in Control" (Parts 1 and 2)  The characters in this story are not mine and may behave in a manner their original creator did not intend. No money is being made from this story, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Ghost of a Chance

Headmaster Severus Snape walked into the Hog’s Head on January 3rd and took his customary seat at a table near the windows. The Christmas holiday was about to end—the students would be arriving tomorrow and term would start the following day. The pub was fairly crowded—no surprise on this cold Saturday evening. He’d lifted his finger and nodded to the barkeep and a quick minute later had his usual pint.

The door pushed open with a rush of cold air before he was halfway to the bottom of his first pint. Four figures, bundled against the cold in long hooded capes hurried in, claiming a table near the fireplace, talking and laughing as they removed their outer garments. One of them, a tall blonde the Headmaster did not recognize, sauntered over to the bar and was soon back with four pints. He sat back down at the table and slid the glasses around, smiling at the man sitting next to him and nudging him playfully with his shoulder.  
Severus froze.

Potter.

He narrowed his eyes, studying the other two companions. Hinkley, a Slytherin who had left Hogwarts three years before and had gone on to a career with the Aurors. Hinkley was long and lean, ruggedly handsome. The other man had his back to Severus but he’d have recognized his Herbology professor anywhere. Longbottom. The blond picked up his pint and drained it in a go. Potter smiled and shook his head.

Professor Potter. He’d given the Aurors a go but had walked away after five years and had applied for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post. Severus had made the two finalists for the position teach a week of classes each and duel in front of the entire school. Potter had earned the position he was given.

Longbottom went up for the next round. He brought three pints back to the table then left them for the bar, where he sat down between two women who looked vaguely familiar to Severus. Former students. One of them put her arm around Longbottom’s waist and squeezed his arse.

He had a better view of the blond now. He looked to be a few years younger than Potter—perhaps Hinkley’s age. He had a goatee—Severus hated facial hair and took a greater dislike for the man for that reason alone.

Five more minutes and Severus had had enough. Both Hinkley and the blond seemed to be vying for Potter’s attention. When the blond leaned in and whispered something to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, Potter reached across the table and grabbed Hinkley’s wrist, turning it over and pushing up the sleeve, running his fingers over something—a scar? A tattoo?

Severus got swiftly to his feet and made his way to the bar. Pint in hand, he took a different route back to his table, deliberately knocking into the blond’s chair and spilling ale on his robes.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going old man!”

Severus froze, counted to three, turned slowly around.

Hinkley was on his feet.

“Headmaster. Excuse my friend, please. Rudgers—allow me to introduce you to the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor Severus Snape.”

Rudgers’ mouth had dropped open a fraction upon seeing the smoldering fury in the Headmaster’s eyes.  
\  
Which now were directed at Harry. Severus completely ignored the introduction.

“Professor Potter—I would have thought you’d be preparing for your classes. You must be quite a bit ahead on your lesson plans to be at a pub so close to start of term.”

He stared at Potter as the man looked up at him, bit his bottom lip oh so briefly, then looked down again, reaching around behind him for his cloak.

“You’re right, Headmaster. I should have gone directly back to my office after we finished ice skating on the lake. Thought I’d have a quick drink to warm up.” He rubbed his bare arms and smiled apologetically then stood and tossed two galleons on the table, bundled himself up in his cloak and nodded politely to his companions.

“Wait, Harry,” said Rudgers. “What about our lunch date tom…?”

Harry shook his head. “Sorry. Classes to prepare and all that. I fought hard to get this position—I wouldn’t want to lose it over a bit of negligence.”

“I’ll be along with a Pepper-up Potion in a bit, Potter,” said Severus to Harry’s back as he began to walk toward the door. His voice was both sarcastic and commandeering. Harry paused, not looking back. “Wouldn’t want you out of commission with a cold just as classes start up. But first I believe I’ll finish my pint with your…friends.” He settled into Harry’s vacated seat and watched the back of his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor as he moved quickly out of the pub.

}-{

“I told you no more boys.”

Harry looked up and met the Headmaster’s gaze. He placed his quill on the desk and straightened the stack of parchment in front of him.

“Lance is hardly a boy, Headmaster.”

Severus moved into the room from the doorway, pushed the door closed behind him with his shoulder and took two more steps into the room.

“ _Mr. Rudgers_ is twenty-two years old. He is a security guard at Gringotts. His father is a Muggle cab driver; his mother is a Ministry clerk. He uses aftershave that smells of melons. He supports the Wimborne Wasps. He has a cat, not a kneazle mind you, but a _cat_ named Prissy. He lives in a flat in London with two other ‘mates.’”

Harry’s mouth had fallen open and he stared at Severus as the man advanced even further into the room.

“He is a _boy_ , Mr. Potter.”

Harry’s moved his chair back and began to stand. “Headmaster…Severus—I thought it was a game.”

Severus reached into his robe pocket and extracted a potions vial which he placed directly in front of Harry, on top of the stack of lesson plans.

“Your potion, Mr. Potter. Drink up.”

His voice carried all the authority it always did, a tinge of menace, a whisper of promise.

Harry glanced at the vial. The liquid inside was pink. He gazed up at Severus as he let himself fall back down onto his chair.

“You were cavorting on the ice with the boys, were you not?” Severus’ thighs were touching the front of Harry’s desk now. “Your feet are probably wet. Freezing.” He nodded to the potion. “Go ahead, Mr. Potter.”

Harry reached out a hand, hesitated.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Potter?” The voice was low, silky. Harry raised his eyes to Severus’ face. “Don’t you trust me?”

Severus Snape knew as well as anyone that Harry Potter trusted no one implicitly.

The hand that had waivered edged toward the vial again. Lifted it, uncorked it, downed it in one go, eyes locked with Severus’ the entire time.

He nearly sighed with relief at the blast of steam that erupted from his ears.

“Thank you,” he murmured, setting the empty vial on the desk then looking up in alarm as the potion churned in his stomach and heat began to pool in his gut.

“I’ll meet you in your quarters,” said Severus casually as he moved past Harry’s desk and pushed against a bookshelf on the side wall. The shelf swung open and he turned to look back at Harry. “You’ll be spending a bit of time in the loo now. I’ve always been of the opinion that steam cleaning is superior to other…methods.”

He leaned against the shelf, arms folded, as Harry stood and walked as calmly as he could past him and into his quarters.

}-{

Thirty minutes later, Harry Potter, wearing the jeans and jumper he had worn earlier on the lake, stepped into his bedroom. The room was totally dark. Had Severus…?

But no. A quiet _Lumos_ from the corner and the oil lamp on the dresser and the two wall sconces glowed softly. Severus sat in the armchair in the corner beside the four poster, feet bare and resting on the ottoman. His wand was in his right hand, resting on top of his thighs.

“Right on time,” he said, quirking an eyebrow. “I trust the experience was…refreshing?”

“Unexpected,” said Harry, not moving from the doorway. “One of your potions, I presume?”

A pleased smile curved Severus’ lips. “Indeed. And for the record, I _have_ tried it out myself. I know what you went through. And what you’re feeling now. How the cheeks of your arse are sliding against each other so deliciously, the lube seeping from your arse.” He laughed so softly Harry could barely hear him. “Or should I say… _my_ arse?” He pointed one elegant foot, long toes arching downward. “Come here Harry.”

There was nothing for it. Harry moved forward slowly until he stood in front of the ottoman, eyes on the long dark wand held by the pale hand resting on black robes.  
“Strip for me, Harry.”

The way he said his name, the brief pause before he uttered the word, the slight exhale that formed the H—Harry would have jumped off the Astronomy Tower for that voice, would have crawled through a pit of vipers to reach it. His hands moved to the hem of his jumper.

“Slowly. Take your time. The last time I saw you naked you were a prize my servants bagged for me. This time I will bag you myself, so to speak.”

Harry grasped the hem of his jumper with one hand and slowly worked it up over his chest, his shoulders, finally pulling it off his neck. He dropped it on the floor beside him, his mouth twitching just a fraction at Severus’ quick intake of breath.

He was left wearing a skin-tight shirt, the type athletes wore under their uniforms to conserve body heat. It was all black, long-sleeved and very stretchy. His hand edged to the hem again and he worked the shirt off with one hand, slowly, then dropped it on top of the sweater, looking up again at Severus as he did so.

He had bruises on his chest, around his nipples. The hair there was short and stubbly now. Severus’ eyes fastened on the yellowing bruises and his mouth tightened. Harry’s hand moved slowly to the first button on his fly. He opened it, one handed. Paused. Inched his fingers down to the second one then undid it as well. The third and fourth followed and he left the fifth, sliding his hands down into his jeans to cup himself briefly, then pulled them back out and slowly worked the pants down his legs until he was standing there in his blue smalls. They were low cut and closely form fitting. His cock was beginning to firm up, pushing up toward the waistband of his pants, its bulk outlined by the tight cotton. He looked at Severus.

Severus nodded. “Take them off.”

Harry peeled them slowly down his legs, letting them pool at his feet. He stepped out of them, cock bobbing forward.

“Hand me your glasses, Harry.”

A slight hesitation. A wary eye. Severus held out his hand and a moment later the glasses were in his hands. He folded them and carefully placed them on the window ledge behind him.

“Come stand here, beside me.”

Severus put his bare feet on the floor and pushed the ottoman over to the side. Harry took two steps forward and stood beside the chair. Severus caught his eye. The man was apprehensive yet already stunningly hard.

The Headmaster reached out a hand and brushed against the shorn pubic area, running his hand lightly up to the navel then back down again. The hair was growing back. Severus was torn between the desire to see it lush and soft again and to shave it off, leaving the skin baby smooth. He bit the inside of his lip. _Control._

He held up a finger, made a spinning gesture. “Turn around, pet.” His voice was like molten metal, hot and probing. Harry turned, shivered.

A long finger traced the tight crease from top to bottom. The finger swiped again, probed. “Loosen up a bit, pet.” Waited for the slow release of tension then stroked across the lubricated skin, spreading the slick substance around the rim, dipping in to the first knuckle and pulling down slightly.

“Bend. From the waist please.”

Harry’s cock, deliciously, impossibly hard, bobbed between his slightly spread thighs as he bent. Severus leaned forward as he parted the cheeks with both hands, exposing the slick, clean pucker and blowing softly across it.

A muttered _fuck_ accompanied the soft grunt as the legs trembled. The low voice spoke again. “Hold steady. Brace yourself on the bed if you need to.”  
Severus’ tongue may have been sharp, but when it swiped against Harry’s pucker he let out a strangled moan and leaned further forward to grab the edge of the mattress. Severus pulled back a moment, using his thumb now to delicately caress the rim. “The potion really is a marvel. When mixed with saliva, it works as an analgesic, producing a mild irritation of the skin that causes heat, distracting one from any pain he might feel.”

The tongue dove in this time, probing into its target, laving the edges, pushing into him and leaving a tickling burn, a luscious heat that traveled inward beyond the tongue. Severus removed his tongue, kissing and nibbling along the delicate skin, biting the edges of his cheeks, small nibbling bites, tasting him, teasing him, saliva mixing with the residual potion to take him just to the edge of pain. His cock bobbed, saliva beginning to drip down behind his balls, lighting them on fire too, the base of his cock, the shaved skin above it.

Severus’ hand suddenly pulled him backward, wrapped around his stomach, tugged him until he was sitting on Severus’ lap, the prominent bulge of Severus’ cock beneath his robes pressed up against his tingling arse.

“Lean back, Harry. Relax.” A hand coaxed his head back to lie in the crook of his neck. Severus pulled the ottoman back with a dexterous foot, rested his legs and Harry’s on the ottoman then wrapped one of his legs over Harry’s, holding him down, pinning him.

“Close your eyes, pet.” Severus ground his groin upward, pressing his cock into Harry’s crease, groaning. He continued the rhythmic slow thrusting as he talked, low and soft, in Harry’s ear. “It’s been nearly an hour now, pet. The potion should be beginning to relax you now. Your thoughts are going to be a bit muddled for a while. Your body will be in charge. It will tell you what it wants, pet. And you will tell me, won’t you? You’ll listen to that treacherous body of yours, that body that wants to be loved, wants to be cared for. Wants to be owned….” Severus’ hands moved over Harry’s smooth belly, tracing circles on the smooth skin and toned muscles, worked upward to trace over pectorals then forefingers and thumbs began to slowly work Harry’s nipples, both at the same time, pinching gently, squeezing, rolling the pebbled nubs, pulling them forward. One hand abandoned its nipple to dip down beneath him, probing into his crease to collect some of the potion-created lube, gathering it then returning to the nipple, smoothing the lube over the nub.

“Good. Fuck that’s good.” Harry was biting his lip now, trying to force the words back inside but they would not obey. They started bubbling outward, his mind no longer his own, totally controlled by his body’s needs now, his body’s demands.

“Harder. Pinch them.” The fingers complied, pinching one then the other.

“Fu…fuck. So good.” Harry’s hand reached down for his own cock. He choked back a scream as Severus grabbed his hand and moved it to his chest. “Here, Harry. Work your nipple. Do it the way you like it. Shall I touch your cock for you, hmm? Shall I?”

One of Severus’ large hands closed over Harry’s cock, giving it only the lightest of squeezes, the slightest pressure. His other hand worked in behind Harry’s arse, finger slipping in, working deeper, pushing in then sliding out again, over and over until Harry was weeping, moaning, begging for more. For his cock. For more fingers. For his wand. For the candles from the candelabra on the chifferobe. For anything to fill him, to fuck him, to take him.

“Patience, patience. Here’s a little more, but we don’t want to hurry, do we?” He pushed his aching groin, still covered by trousers and robe, up against Harry’s firm arse again then worked a second finger in beside the first.

“Yes. Not enough, not enough. Want your cock, need your cock, Severus.” He ground down on the fingers and Severus chuckled and bit down on Harry’s neck, licking his Adam’s Apple, tugging on his earlobe.

“More fingers, pet? Two isn’t enough?” He teased Harry with a third, pushing only the tip in next to the other two, twisting them around and around as he opened them up, pressing against the tight opening then pushing them all the way in. He waited almost no time at all before adding the fourth, rotating his hand, twisting it, finally, deliberately pressing against Harry’s prostate as he clamped his other hand around the base of Harry’s cock, staving off the orgasm that would have erupted, pulling down on his balls and soothing the scream that tore from Harry’s mouth. Harry began to push back against the penetrating hand, lifting his arse up then plunging it back down. Severus toyed with him, moving his hand with the thrust, not allowing deeper penetration. And Harry was crying, screaming, pleading as Severus caressed the head of his cock then suddenly withdrew his fingers, released the cock and with both hands drew Harry tightly back against him.

“Come down from it, pet. We’ll come together when we come tonight.” He continued to hold Harry tightly against his chest, smoothing a hand over the bristly pubic area, pressing hard kisses to the tender nape of his neck. He rocked him as the whimpers escaped him, as they turned into soft sobs of need. “Your cock is so hard. Your arse is so empty. And it’s all on fire, isn’t it? Tingling and prickling and burning. Your body is still telling you what you want, isn’t it? It’s telling you that you want to be bent in half on that bed, knees next to your ears, arse in the air, eyes locked with mine.” He smiled and hummed. “You tasted my cock already, pet, but you’ve not _had_ it, have you?” He pressed upward again and Harry moaned through his sob as Severus rolled him in his lap, back and forth, rocking his arse on his hard as steel cock.

He stood then, bringing Harry up along with him, pressing him forward until he toppled onto the bed, then pulled him by his legs to the very edge of the mattress, flipped him over, positioned pillows under his hips until he was tipped nearly backward, legs bent back nearly double, knees close to his head, arse up and open and so erotically on display that Severus stopped to stare at it, smiling.

“I want someone to see you like this. Someone besides me. Shall it be Hinkley? Has he tasted this treasure, pet?” He paused as Harry frantically shook his head. “No? What about that other boyfriend of yours? Rudgers?” Severus slid a long finger quickly into Harry and crooked it to brush his prostate. “Has Rudgers seen you like this, my pet? Has he played with you? Did his balls slap against you as he fucked you into the mattress?”

“Goddamn it yes! He fucked me! He fucked me and I wanted it to be you. I wanted your cock, not his. Fuck, Severus.”

The finger inside him kept up its rhythmic in and out motion as Harry continued to whimper. “Hmm. He’ll never fuck you again, will he?”

“Never, never,” breathed Harry, clenching around the intruding finger, trying to pull it in deeper.

“Who will fuck you, Harry? Who will fuck you when you need it? Who will you come to when you need to be loved?” Another finger slid in and Severus bent again, kissing the smooth skin at the juncture of thigh and groin.

“You. Only you. Christ, Severus! YOU!” Harry reached forward again, breathing hard.

“Hands at your sides.” The voice was low but commanding. Harry’s hands dropped back.

“Do it. Take me, Severus. I promise it will only be you. No more boys. No more anyone. Only you.”

“Did Hinkley have you, Harry?” Severus added the third finger again and continued the slow thrust and slide.

“No….” The fingers slid in harder. “Yes!”

“Where did he take you, Harry? Where did Hinkley fuck you? Where did that little _boy_ try to play grown up with you? Dirty you with his ugly cock?”

“A Muggle club…in London…the loo.”

“Did you come, Harry? Did you come when he fucked you? Did he excite you with his voice? Did he swallow you? Did he fill you, Harry? Tell me, Harry.”

Harry grunted. “Is…is…there some goddamn…compulsion potion in this…in this….?”

Severus laughed. “No, Harry. You want to tell me these things. You _need_ to tell me. Did you come when Hinkley fucked you?”

“He made me…he made me come on his face….” Harry breathed out the answer, groaning.

“Oh, that’s dirty, isn’t it, Harry? So very dirty. But if Hinkley and Rudgers have already seen you like this, who else could we have in here, hmm? To see you taking my fingers, bent on your bed with your arse in the air? How about Longbottom? He’s likely back in his quarters now, isn’t he? He may think himself straight, but I bet he’d pay a nice hefty sum to see you like this, wouldn’t he?”

“No. No. No one. Not Neville. Not Neville. Only you, Severus. You.”

“Still, I’d enjoy a voyeur when we do this, Harry. I want someone to see me take you for the first time. Because after tonight you’re mine. No more boys. No more little boys and fumbles in Muggle clubs, Harry. Those days are over. It’s grown-up time now. Grown-up games. Baron!"

It took a moment, a moment when Severus continued to press four fingers into Harry, when Harry continued with his rolling stream of consciousness, his words and thoughts unfettered, but a grayish white mist appeared at the end of the bed and the ghost of the Bloody Baron materialized, glancing at Severus but staring at Harry.

“Oh, Headmaster. Well done! Well done, indeed! He _is_ a prize. Look at him. Is he yours?”

“Shit! No! What the fuck, Severus? The fucking Bloody Baron! AAAAAUUUGGGHHHHH!!”

The scream coincided with the Baron passing his hand into Harry, the icy cold stab intermingled with Severus’ warm probing fingers. He drew them out and passed his misty hand over Harry’s bollocks. Harry’s cock wilted slightly and he tried to unfold himself, kicking out at Severus.

“Watch from near the head of the bed, Baron. Do not touch again. Your commentary is welcome, however.”

Severus pushed Harry backward again, dropped his own trousers and gave a quick squeeze to his engorged flesh.

“It’s time, Harry,” he said as he lined up the tip of his cock to Harry’s entrance and pushed forward, sliding slowly, deliciously, perfectly in until he was balls deep and Harry was panting, pushing against him, trying to drive him back out. He complied, sliding out slowly only to hammer back in again, resting against Harry a long moment.

“Harry, look at me.”

Harry opened his eyes, panting through his mouth. “Christ you’re big.” He blew out another slow breath and clenched around the cock that was claiming him at last.” Severus pulled out slowly and drove back in, beginning a grueling pace of thrust and retreat while the ghostly form of the Bloody Baron watched and spoke in low, ethereal tones.

“Oh, Headmaster. Look at him. He’s built like an Olympian athlete. That cock—perfect. Uncut. Leaking. Bollocks like plums, golden, ready to be plucked and chewed and savored. Hairless like a boy but not a boy, oh, not a boy at all. You’ve got him bent over nearly in half, gorgeous arse pulling in your cock. His arse is so greedy it could take your fingers next to that cock, Headmaster. You could get your entire fist in there, or a feast of wild cherries, or a toy…a pretty plug…we gave our pets tails in my day, a plug adorned with feathers or fur. Perhaps he could be your pretty pet. A bit of jewelry would set him off, don’t you think? Golden rings in those pert nipples? A silver stud in that foreskin?”

Harry’s head was thrashing back and forth on the mattress, long hair tangled beneath him. He was grasping his thighs with his own hands now, pulling them back, opening himself further to Severus, listening to the Baron, concentrating on the voice, the rawness of the unfulfilled need of the long-dead man.

“If I had hands I would pull against those rings, Headmaster. Pull them taut, shoot that spark of arousal down to his groin, the barest pain, the pleasure so close around its edge. And I would keep my toy on display for everyone to see, have him show his pert arse off with its jeweled plug. Oh, and I would share him. I know you are not the sharing type, Headmaster, but I would be kind to my fellow instructors, perhaps let that nice young Herbology professor toss my pet into the fairy ferns and pound into him while the Potions Master swallows that cock, collects some of that lovely sweet semen for his skin-softening unguents, paddle that pert arse to make it cherry red and hot, let the Quidditch Coach have a go at him in the middle of the Quidditch stands on game day…”

“Ohmygod…ohmygod…hot…fuck…Severus…Severus…” Harry was babbling now, driven to the cusp. One touch to his cock and he’d be there. One brush against the head, one small tug and he’d crash and never ever open his eyes again. He wanted it, he needed it, it was so close, so elusive, so….

Severus grunted and thrust, imagining as he did small golden rings in Harry’s nipples, a serpent tattoo encircling them, an eye of Horus around his navel, his initials tattooed on his hip. He had never needed fulfillment like he needed it now, never wanted completion so fervently, never before felt this pulsating desire, this need to claim, this absolute necessity of a witness to the passion, a witness to his claim, the claim he was staking in Harry, in his flesh, in his very soul. He thrust again. Rudgers would not have him. He drove in, panting, sweating, slapped his balls against him, grasped his arse harder, tighter. No more Hinkley. No more boys playing with his pet, his Harry, his jewel.

His cock thrust in again, grasped so tightly by Harry’s muscles, pushing in so greedily, sliding so deliciously against the potion-coated flesh, tingling now as Harry’s flesh tingled. He drove in again, pulled out all the way then thrust back in again, slamming against him, just on the cusp of orgasm but not there yet, not there yet. Vision narrowing, blackening as he reached out and grabbed hold of Harry’s cock, slid fingers over the head, squeezed, ripped the orgasm from the body beneath him, ripped the scream from his body as he convulsed and came, seed filling the vessel beneath him as he collapsed, as Harry’s legs unfolded and he grabbed Severus around the shoulders and kissed him, rubbed his nose against his nose, breathed obscenities and curses into his ears, kissed his eyes, bit on his ear, laved it with his tongue as his seed pulsed between them. They wrapped their legs around each other, writhing and wrestling in the bed, bodies spent but energy not dissipated, not yet. More to say.

Severus was on top of Harry now, straddling his waist, kissing his chin, his mouth. He rolled to his side and they lay together, panting, breathing, arms around each other.

“I will make the rings myself,” said Severus, grazing a hand over Harry’s nipples. “And we will each get a tattoo, a sign of commitment, so you will have no other. Nor will I.”

“Snakes,” murmured Harry, tracing circles around Severus nipples, exposed now with his shirt half open, buttons ripped off and gone. “Snakes aren’t for boys.”

“Snakes are for men,” murmured Severus, grasping Harry harder. “I do not share, Harry. I am a possessive, mean and vindictive man. I will not be easy for you.”

“I don’t want easy,” said Harry softly. “I could have had easy a long time ago.”

“You have quite the prize,” said the Bloody Baron, interrupting their moment. “I will go now, Headmaster. Please call me again if you need a…witness.”

“Not a ghost of a chance,” said Harry, burying his face in Severus’ neck.

“Hmm,” said Severus. “We shall see.”

 

_Fin_


End file.
